


Versatile

by TheAnonymousJoker



Series: You get a prompt! You get a prompt! And you get a prompt! Everyone gets a prompt! [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Smut, pure and unabashed porn, versatile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 08:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3403667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAnonymousJoker/pseuds/TheAnonymousJoker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From Anon: prompt: literally all I want is gallavich versatile smut</p><p>Your wish is granted, Anon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Versatile

**Author's Note:**

> For Anon!  
> the-anonymous-joker.tumblr.com/ask if you have a prompt!
> 
> Forewarning, I haven't written pure smut in a *very* long time. Apologies if it's noticeable.  
> Otherwise, enjoy!
> 
> -Joker

“Hey, Gallagher.” 

Ian glanced over his shoulder to see Mickey emerge from his room, looking ruffled from his nap and just this side of irritated. Cute. “What?” Ian asked after turning his attention back to the television. The nature channel was what he’d finally settled on after half an hour of mindless channel surfing. Nothing interesting. Some big cats, a couple ant colonies, chimps. The usual fare that Ian’d never had the privilege to see in the South Side. 

Mickey flicked the back of Ian’s neck and said, “I wanna fuck, let’s go.”

Laughing, Ian glanced back at Mickey again and said, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, now stop fuckin’ around and get on top of me.” Mickey pulled Ian off the couch by his wrist and dragged him to the bedroom, apparently not at all ashamed for his eagerness. If Ian had to guess, he’d probably say Mickey had woken from his nap with a boner, and Mickey never chose himself over Ian.

They fell onto the bed gracelessly (or, rather, Mickey fell back onto the bed and pulled Ian on top of him), and wasted no time meeting lips and running hands down each other’s bodies. Foreplay wasn’t something they ever particularly reveled in, especially when they didn’t have to, although Mickey would admit (albeit hesitantly) to loving the feel of Ian’s weight pressing on his chest as he kissed down Mickey’s neck, sucking and biting and marking him as if Mickey didn’t already know he belonged to Ian. 

“Fuck, Ian,” Mickey groaned when Ian’s knee pulled up into his groin, pressing just hard enough to be uncomfortable. Well, it was uncomfortable for a few moments, at least. After that it just seemed to make Mickey harder. Ian laughed a little breathlessly when Mickey grabbed his hand and shoved it toward his cock, but he took the hint and rubbed Mickey through the fabric of his boxers.

Within five minutes, they were both naked and panting, hard and reaching for the lube and condoms. Mickey found the lube where it had rolled between the two pillows, and Ian seemed to produce a condom from nowhere. With a quick wink, Ian ripped the condom packaging open with his teeth. Just as he was moving to roll it onto himself, Mickey grabbed the condom from Ian’s hands and did the deed himself, loving the feel of Ian’s cock in his fingers. 

Then, without being prompted, Mickey flipped himself over and steadied himself against the headboard. He flashed a look over his shoulder, and Ian could see the impatient lust in his eyes. 

Ian grinned, looking positively wicked, and dashed a sharp slap against Mickey’s ass. “Fuck Mick,” he said, “you look—”

“Come on, Ian, fuck me. Jesus fuck.” 

Ian needed no further prompting. He easily pressed into Mickey, who was still somewhat loose from their morning exercises (which was not but a few hours behind them yet). Mickey let out a low growl as he bore down on Ian’s cock until he bottomed out. Then, Ian began their usual routine of fierce thrusts coupled with the occasional long, slow drag, feeling Mickey melt beneath him.

“Christ,” Mickey moaned when Ian’s lips found the knots of his spine. Then, as if by miracle in the moment, Mickey spotted a small collection of condoms hiding inside Ian’s pillow cover. The sneaky bastard. Mickey managed to grab one and rip it open, rolling it onto his own cock without Ian noticing. 

Then, just as Ian was reaching the end of a thrust, Mickey pulled his hips down, disengaging them with a quiet moan. 

“Mick?” Ian asked, breathless and confused.

Mickey turned onto his back so he was looking up into the sweaty, sexy face of Ian. He smiled crookedly, and the spark of realization flashed in Ian’s eyes just before Mickey flipped their positions so he straddled Ian on the bed. He leaned over Ian and whispered in his ear, “I wanna fuck you.” 

It seemed that Ian could do nothing but moan at the suggestion, instantly pressing his hips up into Mickey’s so they rubbed against each other, desperately seeking the friction. Mickey grinned, grabbing Ian’s legs behind his knees and pushing them up until his tendons and muscles visibly strained beneath his skin. He made short work of preparing Ian (for it was no secret that Ian often played with himself when he thought Mickey wasn’t around) and lined himself up with Ian’s entrance. 

Mickey wasn’t as good as Ian was at this, and he knew it, but Ian grunted, his face drawn up in pleasure, as Mickey pressed into him anyway. Then, once Mickey began thrusting, quick and sharp and hard, Ian’s mouth fell open and long swears fell from his lips. Mickey wasn’t really one for kissing during sex (after all, mouths had better places to be), but the sight was simply irresistible. He bent down between Ian’s legs and pressed his lips to Ian’s.

Not but a few moments later, Mickey’s thrusts began to grow spastic and lose their rhythm. As if by nature (because there was no way his brain was working right now), Mickey’s hand found Ian’s cock, still covered by the condom, and began to stroke him quickly and unevenly.

Mickey came first, in long throes, and once the intense waves had passed over him, he pulled out of Ian and let Ian’s legs down around his hips. He pulled off the condom and tied it off with nimble fingers, tossing it… somewhere (surely to be a nasty surprise if Mandy ever came in unannounced). 

Then Mickey moved to straddle Ian’s hips and lower himself back down onto Ian’s still-hard cock, which managed to pull a long, breathy moan from Ian. He didn’t move, for he almost feared his muscles would give out if he did, but Ian compensated beautifully, thrusting up hard and fast until his own orgasm came.

When Mickey felt Ian spasm beneath him, he collapsed next to him with a satisfied grunt. He felt rather than saw Ian pull off his own condom and discard it, and he almost purred when Ian draped a heavy arm over Mickey’s waist, pulling them close. All Mickey could smell was sex and maybe a little bit of Mandy’s fucking perfume she sprayed everywhere one day.

“Fuck, Mick,” Ian said, almost as if to himself. Mickey didn’t reply in words; he didn’t have to.

 _Fuck_ , indeed.


End file.
